


Still Waters

by Batkatbrown



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Merman Jesse, Slow Burn, historical setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:47:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batkatbrown/pseuds/Batkatbrown
Summary: The first time Hanzo saw him, it was late at night when even the stars had gone to bed. It was just a flash in the darkness, far out in the cove, of red and gold. He considered the disturbance in the still water until the ripples faded.He pulled his feet from the water at the end of the pier and tucked them under himself. There were things out in the countryside that still lived by an older set of rules. He was not surprised to find many a rumor in the village in the morning.





	Still Waters

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun working with Beetleknee to create this story based on their artwork. Check out their tumblr at https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/beetleknee
> 
> <3

The first time Hanzo saw him, it was late at night when even the stars had gone to bed. It was just a flash in the darkness, far out in the cove, of red and gold. He considered the disturbance in the still water until the ripples faded.

 

He pulled his feet from the water at the end of the pier and tucked them under himself. There were things out in the countryside that still lived by an older set of rules. He was not surprised to find many a rumor in the village in the morning.

 

“Something ancient lives out there.” One elder said between haggling for fresh cooked rice and fish. “We leave it offerings when the moon is full for hope of a good harvest.”

 

“Is there a shrine?” Hanzo asked of another while refilling his water gourd at the well.

 

“Those who believe such nonsense leave offerings at the end of the pier. Or throw them into the water with a prayer. Those days are dying out. We aren’t some tiny backwater place anymore.”

 

Hanzo nodded along and headed to the heart of the little village perched on the edge of the world. The cove provided fresh fish and the occasional ship bearing trading goods but it was remote.

 

No one would come looking for him here and he decided it would be a good place to hide. Maybe even atone in some small way for the evil that he had created. It perched on his shoulder, a weight of maliciousness that he could not shake.

 

He tried with the power of sake in the tiny inn. It was little more than a lean-to hut added to the side of a simple house. He didn’t mind the straw or the cold nip of the night. He deserved the discomfort and the shivers that ran down his spine when a howl rose into the night.

 

The dragons stirred beneath his skin, rivers of ink with a mind of their own. He could not hear them but their presence calmed him. This was the right path to walk.

 

Hanzo stayed in the inn for three days.

 

The first he spent in the small market and going from house to house. He bartered what little he had and when it ran out, Hanzo turned to hunting. He kept far away from the village as he did and stormbow brought down a buck quickly.  It purchased him small hoard of rice, miso and tea that he carefully packed in wax paper to protect from the elements. He dreamed of fish the size of dragons that churned the water of the cove, longing for the sea but unable to pass the deadly reef.

 

The second day, Hanzo followed subtle tracks in the forest, up and away from the houses. It wound like an animal’s trail but there were the faintest footsteps mixed with hooves. He kept his hand on stormbow but there was no prickle of danger. The dragons nestled on his back, safe from sight as the day grew hot and he tied his gi around his waist. They basked in the sunlight as he crested a small summit and looked down on the shimmering water.It stretched out before him in a fat drop of blue green. It tapered off to a narrow pass between two towering peaks that looked as if they had been cleaved in two at the beginning of the world.

 

The distant ocean bore tiny ships on it’s waves as they fishermen hunted bigger game than what grew in the lake. There would be many delicious things simmering over fires that night and Hanzo’s mouth watered at the thought of crispy squid or giant tuna.

 

He pushed them away.

 

He turned his back on the ocean and spied what he had been seeking.

 

There was a shrine in the tree line. It had once been humble but now it was lost to decay. Hanzo approached with caution, awaiting the dragons’ warning if a god still lived there. The markings had long since been worn away and there was little besides the torii gate to mark that it had once been reveried.

 

Hanzo bowed at the crumbling moss covered steps before moving on. He did not dare step foot in a place that once held the power of dragons before the shimada name had ever been whispered in Nippon.

 

It was not far to his true destination. The tiny house had once been for the shrine protector but it too had long since been empty. This part of the Shimada name had been hushed and secreted away.

 

Hanzo trailed his fingertips along the three dragons carved into the front door. They were chipped and faded to a muted gray from age but the stones in their eyes still glittered like living things.

 

The green dragon was as smug and arrogant as the one that Hanzo had known and he blinked back the sting in his eyes. The flanking two dragons studied him, weighing, measuring, finding him wanting.

 

Hanzo pushed the door to the side, wary of the work of time. The heavy slab wobbled and rattled on the slides that had once moved like the softest breeze. He squeezed through the gap and brushed aside cobwebs.

 

Spiders skittered away and he imagined their bickering and complaining. He let them escape before stepping forward. The air was dusty and thick with unspoken things. It filled his lungs with a heaviness and he let it root him to the creaking boards.

The screens were riddled with holes or ripped from their slides completely. One lay twisted and broken and Hanzo stepped over it warily. The dust was undisturbed on the floor and no signs of life greeting his ears.

 

The tension slowly drained from his body as he finished his sweep of the simple house. It was not as far gone as he had originally feared. Hanzo spent the night on the mountain.

 

The third day he sat at a grandmother’s side and learned how to make a broom from straw and twine. Another instructed him in the proper weaving of reeds to form baskets in exchange for Hanzo’s services to write a letter. He soon gathered a small crowd, offering to pay for a prayer or wish written on scraps of cloth, paper and wooden tablet to hang in the trees by a newly weds house for the blessing of a child.

 

They did not disperse until afternoon turned to evening.

 

Hanzo gathered the fruit of his labor and stowed it all in the basket before heading to the inlet. The pier creaked under his feet. He ignored its voice as he settled on the end. There were no other fishers and he pondered the absence as he threw his hook into the water. The simple pole rested easily in the crook of his crossed legs and his mind wandered.

 

Fog moved across the still surface of the water and the temperature slowly dropped. It settled on his shoulders like a blanket and sank into his veins. The moisture beaded on his skin and gathered on his eyelashes. He blinked it away and focused on his line in the water.

 

Bugs began to land on the water, skittering and skating along the dark surface. The moon whispered in the mist, a rolling conversation that sparkled with a sharp word as a fish rose to take his hook.

 

Hanzo flicked his wrist to set the hook and pulled the line in slowly. The fish struggled and fought against him. He let it tire itself before lifting the wriggling creature free. It flopped and writhed helplessly as he swung it in.

 

The knife was sure and steady in his hand as he pierced the fish’s brain to end its suffering. He whispered a prayer of thanks for the nuritiment before freeing his hook. He set the pole on the pier and dressed the fish with familiar movements. The guts were soft in his fingers and he removed them with care. It would not do to rupture the bowels and ruin the small amount of meat.

 

Once the fish was cleaned, Hanzo set it in a sheet of wax paper and rolled it tightly to protect from the insects. The guts he snipped in half and threw the bowels into the water. The blood spread across the surface as the dark morsel was attacked by fish. They had no guilt about devouring their kin.

The bone hook was carefully baited with the fish’s heart and tossed into the churning waters. It did not take long for another fish to be in Hanzo’s lap and processed much the same way. It was the third fish that brought an unsettling sight to the fisherman.

 

Hanzo shook his head as if to clear away a haze but the image remained. The fish struggled in the air and the hand that had reached for it sank beneath the surface. A chill raced up Hanzo’s spine and all the hair on the back of his neck stood up.

 

He took the fish in hand, knife moving without taking his eyes from the spot in the water where he had seen something impossible. The dragons coiled down his arms and his heart thundered in his ears.

 

They had sensed the presence of whatever he had just seen. He considered the weight of the fish in his hand, the meal it would give him and the comfort of fullness against the superstitions rolling under his skin.

 

“Forgive my lack of offering.” Hanzo projected his voice into the swirling mists and tossed the fish in after it. It splattered on the surface of the water and spun in a lazy circle. Hanzo watched from the corner of his eye, pretending to focus on the bag of gear at his side.

 

A long fingered hand rose from the depths and the fish disappeared with nothing but a plume of red in the water.

Hanzo gathered his supplies and fled the pier as quickly as he dared and did not breathe easy until he was high above the water. The dragons snapped at his wrists, desiring a weapon in each hand.

 

He pushed them down.

 

_Were the old tales of monsters in the water true?_

 

-

 

Jesse sighed contentedly as he wriggled a bit of bone out from between his teeth. The fish had gone down smooth and sat mostly whole in his belly. He managed to get the spine free from his sharp back teeth and flicked it off into the murky depths.

 

It drifted off on the slow moving current that pulled all things towards the sea.

 

The merman stretched out from his tail fin to the fingertips. The webbing between his fingers caught on the water and he lazily pushed a handful off. It made little swirls appear in his home before rolling out into the main water of the lake. The makeshift cave was a far cry from the one he had made in his youth off the coast of a hot and dry land half a world away.

“That didn’t work out great for you, did it?” Jesse cackled to himself and flicked the skull on the shelf next to him with a fingertip. It rattled as teeth jostled each other and the merman gloated at it.

 

He rolled on the outcropping of rock. It was heavily covered in moss and gentle, green things that were soft under his chest. He rested his head on his arm as he considered the newest visitor to his home. He had certainly been a handsome one, all muscle and pleasing angles.

 

Not that Jesse was in the habit of seeing humans, especially not at the end of the pier.

 

“Not my finest hour,” Jesse admitted to the skull of a massive fish that had once fed on its smaller cousins and the occasional villager that got too close. He supposed it might have been ancient, from before the dawn of time by the pure size of it.

 

Jesse reached up to pat the ribcage that half supported the roof of his underwater home. He had thanked it for it’s sacrifice and considered them even. He was missing an arm. The fish was missing it’s everything.

 

Jesse nibbled at the fatty cheeks of the fish head for a dessert of sorts. He normally was too desperate to feed to take his time but after the several he’d plucked from the swarm by the pier and the fisherman’s gift, he was full.

 

“Figure he might be back?” He asked the fish skull before licking out it’s eyes. They were a delicacy after all.

 

“I don’t think so but a man can dream right?”

 

“Definitely a chance. He must be new or poor or both to fish in the lake instead of out on a boat in the ocean.”

 

“Maybe he’s a bit loony.”

 

“He didn’t seem too disturbed by little ol me after all.”

 

Jesse puppeted the fish’s responses and it made him feel a bit better. He might get to see the fisherman again. If it got him more offerings of fish, he would not complain.

 

“Think he thinks I’m the old god?” Jesse asked, blinking his outer most set of eyelids. “He did say some fancy stuff i think. Wish i had a better head for languages since i been dragged half way across the world.”

 

“It would be useful. Maybe you can eat him next time.”

“Nah, none of that talk outta you Jesse McCree. You made that mistake with the last one.”

 

“In my defense he did try to catch us in a net.”

 

“True.” Jesse gestured emphatically with the fish head before throwing all of it into his maw. He gulped around the bone and scales and washed it down with a mouthful of water. It settled on the top of his meal and the merman snuggled into the mossy bed to sleep for a bit. It was exhausting carrying on both ends of the conversation.

 

He rose with the dawn and lazily patrolled his home. There was little chance of being seen under the surface with the sun turning it to a golden mirror. He chased an ancient many legged thing half way across the lake before turning to hunt easier prey. The sting to his pride was familiar by now.

 

After the loss of his arm, even simple hunting had become difficult and he as leaner than he had cone been. He managed to catch his breakfast some time later. It was barely a mouthful of bones and he ruminated on it till it was a mash. He gulped it down before heading to the reef.

 

It blocked his escape to the sea. Swirling currents and violent waves would smash him against the sharp reef if he tried to drag himself over the barely submerged peeks. He was not a strong enough swimmer with only one arm.

 

There were tasty things living around the base and he chased fat wriggling eels that tickled. The electricity zinged up and down his arms before he slurped them down. Jesse was soon satisfied and he lazily swam back towards his home.

 

He slept away the day in his home, curled up tight on the mossy shelf. There was not much to do in the lake besides eat and sleep.

 

That was, until he sensed the surface of the water being broken by the pier. Two synchronized splashes and his perked his ears to try to catch more. A sniff at the air brought the hint of human flesh and he rose to the surface of the water in the middle of the lake.

 

The man from the night before was on the pier, his legs in the water. The evening sun was behind him, outlining him in rosy hues. Jesse blinked his sets of eyelids to clear the water and pushed his hair out of his face.

 

It was permanently getting in the way and he struggled to keep the long strands back. He had adapted to having one hand in many ways but braiding or tying behind his head was still beyond him.

 

Dark strands floated along the top of the still water as he crept close. He did not wish to scare the handsome human off like he had with the others. It was time to work his famous charm.

 

“Used to be famous,” Jesse reminded himself,  though his mouth was under the water and it came out as bubbles.

 

The man’s head tilted in his direction before he froze. Delicate muscles around his eyes tensed and then the man turned his attention away in a slow movement. There was no other indication that he had been seen.

 

The fishing pole remained in the water, fish lazily investigating it. Jesse couldn’t taste blood or fish guts or any of the tasty things he was hoping for. “Not having any luck tonight?” Jesse grinned, trying to keep the worst of his teeth hidden.

 

“Perhaps my luck will change.”

 

Jesse blinked his second set of eyelids and then swam cautiously closer. He wasn’t looking to get smacked with a fishpole or shot with an arrow. The bow and quiver next to the man on the pier looked mighty fine and fancy.

 

“You got them lured in close,” Jesse tried his smile again but it wouldn't work if the man wouldn't look at him.

 

“Is that so?” Hanzo’s eyes flicked to him for a second before going back to the line in the water.

Jesse huffed and let himself sink down till his eyes were peering into the dark water. The first showed up as glittering silver and gold that flickered with tongues of blue. HIs night vision was strong but in the dusky twilight, it was muddled.

 

He reached out to snag a treat but it darted away. He chased through the mass of curious fish to grab at the biggest. His claws caught on something and his hand closed faster than thought. He severed the tail straight through and blood filled the water in a rush.

 

It was rich and coppery as he breathed it in through his gills. It was off somehow and he rose to the surface with a sigh. The dead turtle smelt delicious but he couldn’t hope to get to the rich meat inside the shell with only one hand.

 

His stomach growled and he struggled to hold the body under the remains of his left arm and tug at a leg.

 

“I can help.”

 

\--

 

Hanzo pondered the strange sight before him. It was not an ancient spirit like his dragons. The two were coiled tightly around his wrists, ready to dive into the water and fight the creature. He tried to sooth them but instinct was not easy to put aside.

 

He was surprised at himself, feeling the words leave his lips in a state of bemusement. He imagined it was the same as when travelers ran into crossway devils and sealed a bargain with a kiss.

 

The creature’s kiss would be…

 

Hanzo blinked away the thought as the merman fumbled with a turtle that was crunched almost in half from viciously strong hands. He had not caught any fish that night and the thought of rice and miso alone for his evening meal was dissatisfying.

 

“If you give it to me, i will use it as bait to catch us both a meal.” He spoke carefully, in the most formal japanese. A look of confusion passed over the man’s face and he cocked his head to the side. It caused some of his wild hair to slide free of his unnaturally smooth skin.

 

_Pretty eyes._

 

They were frighteningly intelligent and cunning.

 

A shiver rolled down Hanzo’s spine and he struggled to keep his face impassive. There was no sense in angering an ancient creature that could fit his head in his massive jaws.

 

“Are ya suggestin’ a pact?” the merman’s voice was smokey and alluring and decidedly foreign.

 

“A simple trade of resources.” Hanzo hedged, wary of any hidden meanings. He had come here to repent and to hide from his assassins, not become enslaved to a mythical beast. The dragons agreed in a matter of sorts, sliding restlessly underneath his skin.

 

The merman considered him, head tilted to the side before laughing. Bright and loud as a crack of unexpected thunder, it flashed heat through Hanzo. It curled up inside his chest and made a home.

 

“You gotta deal then, Sweetheart.” The merman continued to chuckle to himself. It made the slits on the side of his neck flutter and gape by turns. “Name’s Jesse.”

 

Hanzo bowed from his seated position without letting Jesse out of sight. He could still become the merman’s dinner. “I am called Hanzo.” It was a common enough name, nothing that could betray him like he had betrayed his surname.

The crushed turtle clattered on the pier and the merman lazily swam to the side. Jesse  pulled half of his body up, lounging across the edge with his chest and shoulders above it.

 

Hanzo resisted a shiver as he was brought face to face with the strange man. This close he could see the eerie shininess of the man’s skin, poreless and smooth like a dolphin’s hide. Or maybe a shark’s if he was dried. One cunning eye showed from under the curtain of dripping hair until Jesse shifted his weight. He rest it on the stump of his left arm, just below the elbow, and used his hand to push his hair out.

 

Hanzo touched his own hair tie reflexively.

 

“You like what you see, Hanzo?” Jesse waggled his eyebrows and flashes of tiny scales under the hair mesmerized Hanzo. “Cuz I am enjoying the view. Now that i can see ya better.”

 

Hanzo rolled his eyes and something tight in his chest gave a little. He pushed his own bangs back and pulled the turtle’s corpse into the space before his crossed legs. “Perhaps we can make another...exchange of services.” Hanzo purposed carefully as his knife worked on the turtle.

 

“Oh yeah?” Jesse shifted closer. “What do you have that I might want?”

 

Hanzo concentrated on butchering the reptile and baiting a hook. He didn’t miss Jesse’s quick fingers spearing a few morsels on the end of his talons. He nibbled delicately at them and licked the blood off with a long, dripping tongue.

 

The fish were quick to come to the sight of chum and blood. Hanzo kept half his attention on the hook and the other on Jesse. The knife was at his right hand. The blade shown in the budding moonlight.

 

“It must be hard to see, with your hair in your face.” A heron landed on the other side of the inlet and ripples spread out in ever widening rings. “I can cut it back.” Hanzo didn’t miss the way Jesse straightened with interest or the spike rimmed ears pushed through the wild hair.

 

“And what do you want in return, Sugar?” Jesse tucked his hair behind his ears, one at a time.

 

“Tell me what you know of this place.”

 

Jesse’s mouth was full of too many teeth as he smiled.

 

The deal was sealed without a kiss.

  


-

 

Hanzo sighed contentedly, half drunk on sake. The fire was burned low beside him in the ancient home and smoke lazily trailed out through a hole in the roof. He needed to fix it before it rained but for now, he was too comfortable to care.

 

It had been a month since he first set foot in the land of his ancestors. No one had come looking for him and he had not wet his blade with any blood but that of fish and deer and the occasional rabbit.

 

The dragons curled up on his chest. Ink moving easily beneath his skin and their rumbling made him sleepy. He took another long pull on his gourd. The alcohol heated him as much as the fire.

 

Strange shadows danced across the walls, sometimes tricking his eyes into seeing dragons and storm clouds. Two figures danced among them, blade and bow cracking with thunder. Hanzo wondered if it was real or a trick and decided he did not care.

 

-

 

Hanzo opened his door and nearly tripped over a sack of rice and a cloth wrapped bundle. The dragons purred contentedly around his arms at the offering and Hanzo was too hungry to refuse it.

 

He was able to pay it back to the village.

 

When a marauding gang came for taxes to a lord they did not serve, his bow roared and enemies of the valley died. No more came to terrorize the people and Hanzo was content.

 

He was not their lord or the shimada clan’s champion. He would not assume that mantel.

 

Kin slayers did not deserve such titles.

 

\--

 

“Damn, Darlin’,” Jesse moaned the words and lashed his tail. “This is the best damn thing i ever put in my mouth.” He licked his lips and greedily snatched another strip of perfectly cooked and seasoned chicken. Even the rice beneath it was heavenly on his tongue.

 

“I am glad you enjoy.” Hanzo chuckled, using two polished sticks to delicately pluck each bite from the bowl.

 

Jesse hummed and used his talons to mimic the gesture. Except he threw the chunk into the air and caught it in his wide maw. The deal had been the best he had made in a long time. Licking his fingers clean, he returned his thoughts to the question Hanzo had asked.

 

“Nothing but local ships today,” he rumbled and snuck another bite of Hanzo’s dinner. “Saw a trading vessel stop and some of the villagers went out to it on boat. Grandmother Tanaka brought me mochi and the newest gossip.”

 

Hanzo nodded along, seeming engrossed in it. Jesse went for another morsel and yelped as the sticks came down around a finger. It pinched just hard enough to warn him but not offer any real threat.

 

They had found an easy rhythm over the last month. Jesse gathered gossip throughout the day and the occasional delicacy like pufferfish, eel or tuna to trade with Hanzo for cooked food. Regular haircuts kept his bangs out of his face and his mane from getting tangled in coral as he hunted.

 

A pretty braided cord now held his hair back from his face. Hanzo had woven it just for him and helped tie it. It still smelled like the man’s hands and Jesse found it comforting. Much about Hanzo was soothing in a way Jesse was not accustomed too.

 

Sunset was their favorite time to meet, after Jesse had looked for a way to the ocean and Hanzo had gone through his pittance for the day. Jese didn’t understand exactly what he was making up for but it seemed to haunt Hanzo.

 

And perhaps hunt him as Jesse discovered. His mission to observe the great lake and ocean beyond it was not an idle assignment. The day came when a ship with blue sails came close and men in black disembarked. To Jesse’s eyes they shimmered strangely, as if blue glow worms were plastered to their gear in the dark.

 

Hanzo went pale at the news.

 

“How many?”

 

“Three darlin’,” Jesse crooned, fighting down the pang in his chest.

 

“Do not let yourself be seen.” Hanzo pushed the remains of his bait and the cleaned fish to the edge of the pier where Jesse could reach them.

 

He ignored them, lifting himself up on his good arm. Water gushed from his slick skin and scales and he was face to face with the man. “What’s wrong? Who are they?”

 

“My punishment.”

 

-

 

Hanzo dealt with the threat when they came to his home. The three assassins might have been capable of killing most men but Hanzo was not most men. He took no pleasure in ending them. They were following the instructions of their superiors but would not be stopped.

 

Hanzo found himself staring at the remains. It was not right to bury them on the sacred ground near the temple where he lived. Dragging them far enough away would be laborious and take days.

 

Or he could use the easiest way to dispose of unwanted meat.

 

Jesse didn’t seem to mind and he took the corpses eagerly beneath the surface of the water like an offering to an angry god. What he did with them, Hanzo did not want to think to closely on it.

 

The next time he saw Jesse, the moon sat fat on the surface of the water and mist rose in beguiling streams. The merman was wearing the kimono of one of the dead men around his waist, the arms dangling across the front of his hips.

 

The insignia had been clawed off and for that Hanzo was grateful.

 

“It looks fetching on you.” Hanzo laughed and his heart was warmed.

 

“Figure it’d be a shame t’waste it.” Jesse put his hand on his scaly hip, balancing on his tail in the water. Droplets glistened on his rubbery skin and Hanzo found himself longing to feel the cold water.

 

The heat of the day had not yet died and the hard work of the day lingered. He dipped his feet into the water as he did when not fishing. It was cool but not enough and he lazily kicked.

 

“You got cute feet.”

 

Hanzo snorted and lifted one from the water and spread his long toes. “I suppose any feet would be cute to someone without them.”

 

“Nah,” Jesse smirked around the word and his hand closed softly over Hanzo’s ankle.

A thrill raced through him, fear and excitement mixing in his veins. He didn’t pull away though he rolled his ankle and showed off the pink pad of his sole. A smile pushed up his cheeks as Jesse carefully laced his fingers among his toes.

 

It surprised Hanzo to realize this was the first time they had touched in the months since meeting. There was a strange texture to the merman’s skin but he did not find it unpleasant. He flexed his foot as a distraction and then flicked water onto Jesse’s with the other.

 

“Hey now, that ain’t playing fair,” Jesse huffed and waved the stump of his left arm to demonstrate. “You get in here with me and we’ll see who is at an advantage then.”

 

Hanzo snorted and pressed his foot up against Jesse’s chest. “You’re warm.” Hanzo dragged his toes down the man’s pec. There was almost a film to his flesh, like the smooth inky coating on a catfish and Hanzo worked his foot to settle on the man’s stomach. There was no belly button or hair but a line of scales trailed downward.

 

“You wanna cool off?” Jesse’s voice was dark and smooth. It poured into his ears and filled him with a primal urge. The heat of the night and of Jesse lured him into the cool water and he couldn’t resist.

 

When he pulled, Jesse released his foot and he climbed to his feet. The humid air clung to his body as he shed his gi and shucked out of his tied up pants. He could feel the weight of Jesse’s eyes, curious and surprised, probing his legs and hips. Flexing, he turned around slowly to show the muscles of his back and buttocks. The traditional underwear did little to hide his powerful figure.

 

He glanced along the shoreline as he finished his turn and satisfied that there were no spies, jumped into the water. It closed over his head in a gush and the world was black. Pressing his eyes tightly closed, he kicked for the surface. The cold water slicked down him as he broke free.

 

“Damn,” Jesse laughed the word. “You look like a water dragon, popping up like that.”

 

“Flatterer,” Hanzo purred. He tread water as he pushed the heavy mass of his hair away from his face. He had lost his ribbon somewhere in the jump. So close to the merman, he realized just how big he was. Even if Jesse had been a man, he would have been half a head taller.

 

“You look good wet.” Jesse was suddenly close and smirking. Moonlight glinted off dozens of sharp, pointed teeth that could rip through muscle and bone. Brutal as a shark’s smile but a softness in his eyes took the bite away.

 

“You are correct.” Hanzo brushed a chunk of Jesse’s bangs back and tucked it behind his pointed ear. “And you do as well, in the water and out.”

“Now who’s a flatterer?” Jesse nuzzled into his palm and Hanzo had to grab onto his shoulder to keep from being pushed away by it. “Don’t worry. I gotcha darlin’.” Jesse pulled him close and Hanzo looked up in surprise.

 

Hanzo shivered at the cool brush of Jesse’s tail against his thighs. Their stomachs melded, warm and flesh and breathing steadily. The strangeness was not so strange below and Hanzo began to relax. He opened his legs to hold lightly onto the powerful tail, enjoying the slickness.

 

“Let me give you the tour of my little lake.”

 

Hanzo held on as Jesse flowed into the middle of the cove where the bottom was terrifyingly far below. Nightmares of monsters and tentacled things made him hold tighter to the merman’s body. In the rush of water, he had found a perch on Jesse’s back, his legs holding down the sides of his tail.

 

As the moon rose Jesse darted faster down the length of the water and Hanzo raised his arms with a shout of exhilaration. They sped faster than any boat, tales of water flying on either side. He threw his arms into the air and the dragons howled with delight.

 

-

 

Summer began to fade.

 

Hanzo came to visit every day and Jesse was happy to meet him at the pier. Sometimes he would jump into the water and they would swim together. Hanzo fashioned a spear and fished with him though he couldn’t see in the water like Jesse. He still took him to the best spots near the coral reef.

 

It still blocked his escape into the sea but there were tasty morsels to share. They often spent the afternoon feeding or simply lazing in the sand on the shore sharing stories. Jesse missed Hanzo on the few days that he did not come down to the cove.

 

He sulked in his cave and mumbled to himself and to the skull. He didn’t seem to talk back as often. He wondered if he was becoming more human again.

 

Jesse shook away the gloom. He wasn’t one to waste away alone and the coral reef was beautiful. Few fishmen bothered to hunt so close to home when the whole ocean called them and He beached himself on a smooth outcropping. He could see over the ridge of sharp coral and broken bits of wood from crashed ships.

 

In another life, he could have dragged himself across it and to freedom. One handed, it would be deadly to try to climb and roll down into the waves. It lured him like a line in his chest. A call to go back to the hot and dry southwest with crystal waters hummed inside him.

Hours passed in the glorious sun, staring past the fence of coral at freedom. The cove’s waters lapped at his tale as he half sat on it. Fanning his fins, he dreamed of flying through uncharted waters. Would he be able to find his way home?

 

It had been years since he was caught and shipped across world. Only a storm at sea at freed him before he was sold at market or worse. The same storm had thrown him over the reef in a massive wave and he sighed at the gloomy thoughts.

 

“You would help me sail away, wouldn’t you?” Jesse asked a crab as it scuttled past. The crab just stared at him with beady black eyes. “Wanna give me one of your limbs? You got extra after all.”

 

Jesse laughed as the crab fled with all the speed it could muster. He didn’t blame it. In another time, he would have snagged it up and eaten it. It would be easy with his teeth to pierce the shell and even if he did lose one or two, the other rows would fill in.

 

When the old woman from the village came to see him, she offered a wagashi and Jesse handed over three large teeth. He shed them frequently and they were strong and pretty if he did say so himself.

 

“What are you gonna use them for?” Jesse asked between nibbling bites of the sweet. The woman chuckled at his doubtlessly horrible pronunciation. She had helped him learn much of what Japanese he actually knew and he was deeply thankful for her patience.

 

“Windchime.” She  tried out the english word and Jesse grinned in delight.

 

“Pretty. I bet they will reflect the light all nice like.”

 

They gossiped and chatted for a time, sharing sweets and secrets. Jesse smiled to learn that the handsome hermit was settling in and a swell of prosperity had returned to the village. “Like in the old times.”

 

“You think he’s one of the family?” Jesse asked around a mouthful of dango. He had his own suspicions about Hanzo’s origins. He might not be one of the spirits of the mountain but he sensed the power in the archer. Two presences that rumbled with excitement whenever he got close. He hoped to meet them someday. Just not on his way to the grave.

 

Weeks passed and the leaves began to change and the rains came in droves. Hanzo came to the pier and fished under a rustic umbrella of woven reeds.

 

Jesse didn’t like the rain. It pattered on the surface continuously and confused his ears. When he surfaced to try to talk, droplets smacked his head and dripped into his eyes. He didn’t like Hanzo seeing his inner lids but he had to keep them closed.

“How do you survive the winters? You say you are from a warmer climate?”

 

Jesse looked up from the fish he was eating. He was resisting the desire to slurp up the juicy insides but only by a degree.  “I ain’t fond of it. Cove doesn’t freeze over too hard. It makes me real sleepy though.”

 

“You are not cold blooded?” Hanzo murmured as he offered a sliver of apple.

 

Jesse happily munched the rare treat. “Nah, I can regulate my temperature. I just get kinda fuzzy round the edges when i’m working too hard at it.”

 

Hanzo nodded as if this made sense to him. “And you cannot survive on land?”

 

“I reckon not.” Jesse scratched his shaggy beard. “Heard of a few of us that could stay out of water for a while. They were more after the alligator or turtle types though, not us sharks.”

 

-

 

Hanzo stretched out his arms in the water, lazily swimming out into the middle. Light bounced off the small waves and into his eyes. He was glad for the warmth it provided and the exertion that kept him warm. There would be few days left where he could venture into the cove without risking his health.

 

“I know you’re here.” He called, getting half a mouthful of salty water in exchange for the words. Jesse would sense the large movement regardless of where he was. It wouldn’t be long before the merman would show up to greet him.

 

True to form, a hand closed around Hanzo’s ankle. He fought down the instinct to kick and flail and instead let Jesse pull him down in a flurry of bubbles. Squeezing his eyes closed against the water, he blindly held on to Jesse’s neck and shoulder as the merman dove. Lungs burning, he fought to keep from breathing in.

 

Suddenly, just as fast as he had been snatched, he was being slide carefully up a smooth bank of algae and moss. The air was stale but he dragged it in greedily. “Next time, take me closer to your home.” Hanzo grumbled without any real bit.

 

“Sorry, Sweetheart.”

 

Jesse’s voice was as soft as his touch and Hanzo leaned into it. The merman’s claws no longer scared him. Jesse used them to tuck his bangs behind his ear and press a longing band of heat across his neck.

Hanzo reached up to repeat the gesture. Fingertips settled against the frill of Jesse’s gills and Hanzo scratched the inside flap of one fondly. A chuckle bubbled up as Jesse crooned and wriggled when he hit just the right spot.

 

“Oh darlin’, that’s it. Just there. Your little meaty fingertips are just perfect.”

 

Hanzo laughed and slipped his first two fingers into the pink, wet inside to scratch the merman’s gills just right.

 

\--

 

Hanzo woke with a ragged breath, dizzy on the mossy bed. He couldnt get up. Lead filled his limbs. Everything was hazy. No matter how deeply he breathed, the burning pressure built in his chest. The cave pressed in on all sides.

 

“Jesse-” hanzo broke off with a gasp for air that wasn’t there. He needed the surface. He needed clean air. Fresh air.

 

The merman jerked and water splattered Hanzo’s face. He clawed down the slope and into the pool that was the entrance. “Land.” He coughed on nothing, vision going dark at the edges.

Jesse swore and everything happened too fast.

 

\--

 

Hanzo was wary the next when he ventured into Jesse’s home. He kept careful track of the time. It was warmer there than in the water but soon it was too cold to bare. Even with Jesse’s warm side pressed into his as they talked the hours away, the chill stayed.

 

He fought off illness with tea brewed by one of the grandmothers of the village. She promised him that it had long since protected the people of the valley and mountains against the winter’s malice. He was thankful for it and the gift of dango from the granddaughter with a crooked smile.

 

In return, Hanzo felled a deer as the frost spread her fingers over the valley and the days shortened. He gave it to the village and left an offering of coins at the little temple. The shimada gold did nothing for him these days.

 

He was often among the people that had once served his family and worshiped the dragons. He found he preferred to move among them as just another wanderer. If his and the dragon’s presence brought a sense of peace to the land and the storms at sea were calmer, he did not care to notice.

The colder weather brought fewer traders to the little port and Hanzo began to breathe easier. The steady trickle of assassin’s, bounty hunters and opportunities killers slowed as well. It would be a perilous journey across the mountains thick with snow now.

 

\--

 

“Thank you for your kindness,” Hanzo murmured with a bow. A small carved container in his hands was warmed by the Grandmother. He wished to refuse it but could not bring himself to be so rude.

 

“Nonsense, you helped us so much today.” She gestured to the neatly stacked rows of firewood. “If only you would stay for supper.”

 

“I cannot.”

 

“But you caught them yourself.” She sighed, her eyes on the pot of fish bubbling away on the fire. The scent tickled Hanzo’s stomach and tempted him to give in to the care. He pushed the urges away.

 

“I will be back in a few weeks to check on you.”

 

Hanzo made his rounds through the snow to check on the villagers. For one he helped repair a roof and for another helped weave patches of old shirts and rags into a makeshift quilt. They talked to pass the time and Hanzo laughed. It was surprising. How often he found merriment in what was suppose to be a hell to repent in.

 

The thought sobered him as he cleaned the carving in the door of his home. Three dragons, two blue and one green that were guardians of the land.

 

“Please forgive me.” He touched the green dragon’s head tenderly as he cleaned. The snow fell away and a little more of the paint came with it. There were some things time could not heal and he spent the night in the bottle.

 

-

 

Jesse eyed the gourd Hanzo had with him suspiciously. It always appeared when Hanzo fought his demons and began to lose. He stayed in the water, just his eyes and mouth above the surface.

 

“Let me get a sip?” He licked his rows of teeth and lips.

 

Hanzo grunted, face barely visible inside his many layers. The wind rose behind Jesse and whipped the cold against the human. It made Jesse sleepy and he found himself dreaming of his cave and still waters.

 

“Fine.”

 

Jesse took the uncorked vessel and sniffed it. It burned his eyes and throat but in a pleasant way. He sipped it carefully. “What is this?” he asked, blinking back a sting in his mouth that flowed down into his gut.

 

“Sake.” Hanzo’s eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks were sunken.

 

“Do you need me t’get you some more fish?” Jesse looked into the water briefly. “They move even slower than me.”

 

“I killed my brother.”

 

Jesse paused, his hand on a passing fish loosening. The prey sluggishly swam away. Jesse blinked both sets of eyelids before finding Hanzo’s gaze. “He deserve it?”

 

Hanzo shook his head. The motion threw his tears into the cold air. One hit Jesse on the cheek and he licked it up slowly. It was delicate and salty and heartfelt.

 

“Why’d you do it?”

 

“I had to.” Hanzo hid his face in his hands and Jesse just watched for a moment. The human cried those strange tears and he wished he could reach out and hold him. If only it wasn’t so cold and he wasn’t so unequipped to offer any real comfort.

 

“Huh, ain’t that a bitch.”

 

\--

 

Jesse waited for Hanzo to come back but days turned into weeks and he worried he had driven him away completely. He spent his days sleeping in the safety of his cave or hunting the slow fish. He left a few for Hanzo on the pier and they froze solid.

 

The villagers took them and he found he really didn’t mind. Hanzo was always talking about them and they were humans just like him. Jesse wondered if they were like Grandmother who was not scared of him. He hoped she was staying warm.

 

He meant to go to their meeting place to check. He really did. It was just too hard to leave his pool and he sank back into the darkness with a sigh.

 

-

 

Jesse lay in a slushy puddle at the reef, staring out into the gray ocean. The waves didn’t stop for the winter and a few brave ships still danced on them. He wondered if they could carry him home if he remembered the way.

 

Could he swim halfway across the world alone and with only one arm? He might have been able to before he lost it, if he was careful enough. Roving gangs of sharks, whales and mers of all kinds stood between him and the warm waters of his home.

 

There were the humans as well. Fishing nets could catch him or kill him if he was unlucky. He knew good mers that had lost themselves that way. If they were lucky enough to die in the process or they might have ended up like Jesse.

 

He would rather die than go into a cage again.

 

\--

 

“I ain’t got much of a family,” Jesse sighed and put his head in his hand.

 

Pulling his thick winter coat tighter, Hanzo nodded sympathetically. The wind howled across the lake and Hanzo was grateful for the knitted hat and scarf Grandmother had made for him. Jesse seemed unaffected by the cold except for a slowing of his already syrupy voice.

 

“Will they be back in the West when you return?” Hanzo tried to keep the longing out of his voice. He could not begrudge his companion’s departure.

 

“I dunno… maybe?” Jesse blinked slowly, first one set of eyelids and then the other. The weak sunlight seemed to make his sharklike skin duller and the water darker. “I ain’t sure I could make it in the sea.”

 

Hanzo nodded, thoughts on Jesse’s missing limb and the way his eyes were soft, almost human like.

 

-

 

The green dragon seemed to watch Hanzo as the first snow fell. Emerald eyes that had withstood the centuries glittered as he let himself into his home. He lit a stick of incense and placed it at the small shrine he had made.

 

He had no paintings of Genji but he hoped the charcoal sketch he had made would appease his brother’s vanity.

“I am sorry, my brother.” Hanzo rested cross legged and leaned his head into his hand. “I should have brought you here. We could have escaped together.”

 

The smoke curled lazily towards him but it was a trick of the drafty house.

 

-

 

“Grandmother,” Hanzo laughed the word and tried to protest the bundle of food, “I require no payment. You have done much for me already.”

 

Grandmother smiled but her eyes were tired. “You will need the energy. Dark shadows have been seen on the horizon.”

 

Hanzo followed her gaze to the sea beyond the cloven mountain. There was nothing to be seen but a chill ran down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.”

  


-

 

Hanzo watched his breath drift away in the cold room. He had neglected the fire and the night had crept in. Tucking a blanket tighter around himself, he poked at the coals. Embers flared and glowed cherry for a second before going dark.

 

A wear sigh announced his exhaustion and he reached his left hand towards the ashes. Blue light poured from his fingers as the dragons breathed out heat. It leapt to the remains and danced across the small bowl. He tossed in a few logs and lay back against his bed. It had grown cold already and he reluctantly sank into it.

 

The dragons rumbled in his flesh, racing up and down to try to warm him. They slowly grew used to this new slow life that was only interrupted by the rare assassin. It was near dawn when someone pounded on the door of his small home.

 

He jumped out of bed with stormbow in hand, an arrow half notched and raced out the back door. Circling around he saw the source of the noise and released the arrow. It was the grandmother’s descendent Akari.

 

“What is wrong?” Hanzo slide stormbow across his back and crouched to speak with the child. Tear tracks shone in the first lights of the sun as it crested the mountain range. The girl’s hair was frazzled and scratches on her arms and legs were red.

 

“Pirates. They came to the dock. Grandmother says you can help. Please help Mister. Please, we need you.”

Hanzo let her take his hand but he was not there. Fury burned him up inside and the dragons roared to devour. This was his homeland. He belonged among these mountains and waves where the storm dragons had first come to the shimada clan a millennium ago.

 

“Hide in the temple. The dragons will protect you.” Hanzo pushed her towards the overgrown temple and darted into his home. He filled his quivers with arrows and dragged on his clawed boots. The rest was a blur of autumn and rage as he descended on those that dared to set foot on his sacred home.

 

The pirates had stormed the village when he arrived and he felled two before they could cry out. Rice was scattered in the streets and smoke rose in thick curls from the homes. He scaled a house and shot down three. The dragons licked at his wrists, eager to kill and growing stronger with each life Hanzo took.

 

No one would be spared from his wraith and when the dragons were unleashed, the skies opened to match their roar. It echoed across the valley and shouted from each mountain range. Thunder and lightning competed to overwhelm the screams of dying men as the dragons tore through them.

 

The captain of the ship ran.

 

Hanzo shouted for the dragons to guard the terrified villagers and took after him. Pain burned in his shoulders and arms from firing. He slipped in the mud and landed hard on his knee. It twisted painfully but he rolled to his feet again. With a growl, he tore after the man that had dared to invade his home.

 

The forest opened suddenly onto the cove and the pier.

 

The pirate was standing on the end and Hanzo slide to a stop with a revolver aimed at his chest. Mist coiled above the surface. Tendrils reached for the man’s cloak and slipped through the tattered edge.

 

“Drop the bow.” The captain’s voice was rough and hard. The hammer on the revolver clicked back. “Now.”

 

Hanzo’s heart pounded in his ears. He could not surrender his weapon. The dragons were far away, curled around the village in a protective circle. _This is an honorable death._ Hanzo bared his teeth and his bow did not waver.

 

A swell of his heart made his chest ache as he loosed an arrow.

 

He did not want to die anymore.

The bullet caught him in the shoulder in an explosion of agony. It spun him half around and he dropped to his knees with a cry. Blood trickled down his arm and soaked into the coat grandmother had made for him.

 

The pirate laughed and his words were like the shrieks of breaking hulls and shredded sails. _Not like this._ Bolts of lightning shot down his arm and his left arm was too weak to raise. A simple fishing knife was all he had to defend himself and the hooked tip wavered in the air.

 

“I am Shimada Hanzo.” He coiled all the power he had left tight and close. Blue light shimmered in his eyes and mouth, snapping at the cold air. “I will defend my people.”

 

The revolver went off a second after hanzo lunged. Shots fired in rapid succession burned through his shins and away in a wild arc as Hanzo took the Captain over the side of the pier. The ice cracked like thunder as they broke through and the world was dark and heavy and still.

 

Hanzo’s ears rang even in the water.

 

It muffled the garbled screams captured in bubbles as he gutted the captain like just one of the many fish he had butchered.

 

In the darkness, he could only feel the man go still and the water thicken.

 

He kicked against the freezing water but his legs were numb. The surface was so far away.

 

      The last of his air bubbled out with a heavy sigh.

 

-

 

Jesse’s eyes snapped open at the first scent of blood in the water. Panic burst in his chest and he shot out of his cave like an arrow. Flying straight for the pier, he pleaded with the heavens that he was wrong.

 

Hanzo hung in a thousand shards of light. Blue and green crystals of shimmering energy flashed and swirled around him. It was the ancient spirits that Jesse knew and one that was new. Their power burned his eyes and flesh as he plunged into the sacred moment of passing. He couldn’t let Hanzo go so soon.

 

“I gotcha pardner.” He crooned the words into the freezing water and repeated them on the shore. Hanzo was so small and still in his arms and blood ran freely to pool around him. “Oh darlin, darlin, breathe for me.” He shook the man and pressed at his chest like he’d seen villagers do to drowned men.

“C’mon,” Jesse bowed over him, uncaring for the crowd that drew close. Snow crusted on his tail and froze on Hanzo’s blue mouth. There was so much blood. It kept bubbling up between Jesse’s webbed fingers but for once the smell didn’t make him hunger.

 

“Here, like this.”

 

Grandmother was kneeling beside him and she pressed her gnarled hands to Hanzo’s chest. She pumped at it steadily before turning her ear to his mouth. Jesse kept his hand over the bloodied ruins of Hanzo’s right shin. The other flowed sluggishly.

 

A man crouched in the slushy snow and tied his belt around Hanzo’s left left, just below the knee. Another carefully sat at Jesse’s side and added her hands to the wound in Hanzo chest. One by one the villagers came and offered help in their own way.

 

“Just breathe for me darlin’,” Jesse pleaded, slow dread building in his chest. “I ain’t ready t’say goodbye. Not yet. So why don’t we make a deal. You always thought a deal would make things better even when we was just jokin’.”

 

Jesse shifted to lean over Hanzo, aching for just a sliver of hope. “So you hear me, how about you come back from that shining place and I’ll bring you all the best coral and eels and all the tasty bits you can’t reach with them human lungs? We got a deal.”

 

Hanzo didn’t move. One spiky eyebrow had caught a snowflake. It was stark against the black.

 

“C’back t’me darlin’,” Jesse’s voice cracked and he sealed it back together with a kiss.

 

-

 

The fisherman’s hut on the edge of the cove was new and fresh and in the spring, Hanzo would fish from the porch directly into the water. An old door kept out the chill and three dragons watched over the village with freshly polished eyes.

 

“Do you want extra vegetables in yours?” Hanzo asked, leaning over the hole cut in the floor. Jesse rose from the water and crossed the remains of his arms. The fire cast slippery gold light over his features.

 

“Can I have a kiss instead?” Jesse’s toothy smile warmed Hanzo as much as the fire.

 

Who was Hanzo to refuse such a reasonable request?


End file.
